I’ve been trying to think of a small moment from my past that I still remember. The trouble is, I remember all sorts of things that don’t seem particularly important.

For example, I can remember the smell of a brand-new box of crayons. Especially the big box with the sharpener on the back.

I never understood why anyone would sharpen a crayon. It seemed like a terrible waste of perfectly good crayon.

And then there were those pink erasers that never actually erased anything. They just smeared your mistake around until the paper developed a hole.

I wonder whether children still get excited about school supplies.

I did.

I liked school. Sometimes.

Now that I think about it, I don’t remember what I was supposed to be remembering.

But I do remember those crayons.

Especially the one called Burnt Sienna.

Who was Sienna, and what on earth happened to her?